


Maybe This Christmas

by iamirondad



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Description of car crash, Description of dead body, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 12:38:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13007952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamirondad/pseuds/iamirondad
Summary: Stiles died on Christmas Day 2016, and now, a year later,  Malia hates Christmas. Both Malia and Stiles need to see each other one last time. It’s Christmas, a time of miracles and maybe their wish will come true.





	1. Chapter 1

Malia was woken by the sound of laughter. She sat upright, burying her face in her hands. She brushed back her unruly hair and looked up at her wall calendar. It was the 25 th December 2017. She stared at it for a second, memories of the Christmas before flickered in her mind. Memories of happiness, joy and a thirst to tear open presents without even looking at the contents, that faded when she remembered what happened afterward. The laughter came from outside again, she jumped out of bed, and pulled back the curtain; a group of kids were playing in the snow. 

 

Her phone buzzed, she turned back, pulling the phone off the charger. It was her Dad, Henry. It read, “ **_Merry Christmas Honey. Call me if you need to talk._ ** ” Malia texted back a simple thanks, she then tossed her phone on the bed and walked into her kitchen.

 

She lived in a small flat, it was all her and Stiles could afford at the time. They didn’t care that it was small because together they made it home, and they wanted to live together. Now, without him, it was just a small space. With a single cramped bedroom, the tiniest bathroom with a broken shower and a small living space with a tv, which fell back onto the kitchen. Malia hated it, but she couldn’t bring herself to pack up and leave. She had too many memories of Stiles and knew if she were to leave it behind, she’d be letting him go. 

 

Far away, in a realm unknown to man. Stiles Stilinski was alone. In a small space, surrounded by boxes, like a storage unit. For a long time, he had tried to deny that this space was heaven, and it was just a waiting room for what comes next. However, he had spent every day of his death believing he’d be alone for eternity. He’d been through every single box, it was his life. Each box meant something to him. One was full of all his memories with his Dad, one for his Mum, one for Scott, one for Malia and everyone had a met. He didn’t know what it meant. He didn’t even know where he was. 

 

He had counted days since he died. So, on this day, when we opened his eyes and escaped his deep daydream. He knew it was Christmas day and year to the date since he had died. He broke down, bringing his knees to his chest and sobbing. His mind turned to Malia, and their small apartment. He wondered how she was and if she had been able to move on. Stiles thought of his Dad and Scott too, his mind dwelled on his loved ones, like it had every day. He reached into his pocket, he found his cellphone. He rang Scott, hoping for a Christmas miracle, but it went straight to engaged. What did he expect? He was in the realm of the dead, and Scott was still alive.

 

Stiles leaped up, tossing his mobile phone on the ground. “Come on!” He screamed.

 

Back in reality, Malia was sat on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal, when she was sure she heard Stiles’s voice, she turned around, but of course, he wasn’t there. It wasn’t the first time she heard him, and she wasn’t the only one who had heard him. The whole pack had heard his voice since he died - for the first time in their lives, they didn’t blame it on the supernatural, they thought it was just because they missed him. 

 

The doorbell rang, and Malia muttered under her breath, “Lydia Martin.” She leaped up, crashing her bowl onto the table, she jogged over, pulling the door open.

 

“Morning Lia,” Lydia, like Malia predicted, was stood by the door. She was dressed in black jeans and a red Christmas jumper, she had a present tucked underneath her arm. Malia tried to close the door, but Lydia blocked it with her foot, “come on, you can’t block us all out today.”

 

“Yes, I can,” Malia barked, “and I will.” 

 

“Malia, you’ve been shutting us out for a year.” Lydia told her, “we’re worried about you.”   
  


“Scott, shut you guys out too!” Malia exclaimed.

  
“He turned to Kira. You haven’t turned to anyone,” Lydia said smoothly, “even Noah turned to Melissa and Argent. It’s just you now.”

 

“Yeah, see the person I turn to for help is dead.” Malia explained, “grief doesn’t have a deadline.”

 

“I’m not saying it does.” Lydia took her hand, “it’s just easier with friends.”   
  


“I know,” Malia nodded, “and I’m thankful for you lot, but I don’t want to celebrate Christmas. Christmas took Stiles away from us.” Lydia leaned forward, taking her into a hug, “Lydia, please. Go and spend Christmas with Parrish,” Malia pulled back, “it’s your first since you moved in together.”   
  


“I know,” Lydia nodded, “here.” She handed over the gift, and a small envelope, “we are having a party tonight. I know you hate Christmas, but please come.” 

 

“I’ll think about it,” Malia shrugged, “thanks, Lyd. I have a date with shit TV, see you later.”

 

“Bye Malia,” Lydia walked back, letting Malia close the door. Malia tossed the invite aside, and sat back in front of the TV, she opened the present. It was a photo album, it was a very Lydia present to give. She opened it, but when the first photo of her and Stiles appeared, she slammed it shut, and placed it down on her table. She leaned back into the couch, brushing tears out of her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: TW - Car accident

The car accident was not something Malia forgot easily.  On the way to dinner with her Father, her and Stiles were just driving, listening to Christmas songs on full volume. Stiles had paid attention to the road, he hadn’t broken any violations.  **It was just the road** . The car span out of control and flipped over onto its back. Malia didn’t lose consciousness, however, when her friends asked, she said she had. It was easier to tell them that, if she told the truth, they’d worry about her more. She felt every hit of the road as the car tumbled, and as she turned to help Stiles, she lived her worst nightmare because he died on impact. She saw him, his hands strayed out to the side and his eyes wide open. 

 

That’s why she lied. She didn’t want the pack, or her Dad to know that she saw his dead body, that was inches away from her and she couldn’t take his pain, or tell him everything was going to be okay. Malia hated Christmas because it killed Stiles, that was her thought anyway, even though she knew it was just bad luck and bad timing. The ice was dangerous and the Jeep hadn’t been built for it.  Malia needed something to blame, so she blamed Christmas.

 

That’s why, a year on, she was sat in her living room, eating a microwaved turkey meal which tasted like cardboard. Her phone buzzed, this time it was Kira, begging her to come to Lydia’s party. She sighed and decided to go.  She didn’t dress up, she just went in plain black jeans and a brown jumper. 

 

When she walked through the front door, she was hugged by Scott. 

 

“It’s good to see you, Lia.” Scott beamed. Next was Kira, who didn't let go of Malia, she held on until Scott literally had to drag her away. Malia was okay with it, but she didn’t like the negative attention. She was treated like a piece of glass. Stiles’s death killed a part of Malia, but not all of her, she still had strength of her own, and she could survive without him. It just hurt too much to think that he died after everything they suffered, every supernatural occurrence and he was killed in a car accident. It seemed wrong and underserved.

 

“Wanted to escape the party?” Parrish asked. Malia had retired to a guest bedroom, she was sat by the window, looking down at their back garden.

 

“Yes,” she answered, “everyone’s so clingy.” 

 

“Yeah, they worry about you,” Parrish told her.

 

“That’s why I like you the most right now, you worry, but you give me space,” Malia formed a smile, but Parrish knew it was artificial. 

 

“Everyone needs space after going through something like you did,” Parrish told her. “My partner in the army was shot right beside me, the nightmares are unbearable.”   
  


“Did they stop?” Malia asked. 

 

“Honestly....” Parrish began, “no, but I don’t have them as commonly as I did before.”

 

“I lied,” Malia told him.

 

“We know.” Parrish answered.

 

“You do?” Malia quizzed, “prove it.”

 

“You saw him die, you didn’t get knocked out,” Parrish said, tilting his head to his side.

 

“How do you know that?” Malia asked, a quake in her voice as grief took over.

 

“They knew you were lying, well Scott did,” Parrish explained, “we all know that you don’t want to be treated differently for losing Stiles. I think the pack are just…”   
  


“Being nice.” Malia cried, “I know.”

 

“I can’t imagine losing Lydia,” Parrish sighed.

 

“It’s unbearable.” Malia sobbed, “especially when you love them.” 

 

Back in Limbo, Stiles was sat by a desk shifting through old Christmas cards. He stumbled across one from Malia, which read, ‘ **_I can’t wait to spend every Christmas with you. I love you_ ** .’ He wiped tears out of his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He reached down into the box beside him, and drew out a piece of paper. He took a pen and simply wrote, “ **_Dear Santa, my wish is to have one more night with her. Stiles._ ** ” Stiles stopped believing in Santa when he was nine, but now, he believed more than ever because he needed a miracle. 

 

He folded the page in half, he then reached into the box, and froze when he saw a newspaper clipping. The main headline was, “ **_Christmas Car Accident Leaves Man Dead,_ ** ” it was accompanied by a picture of him. “This isn't fair,” he whispered to himself. He closed his eyes, and suddenly he felt a breeze of cold air brush through him. When he opened his eyes, he was no longer there. He was stood under the fairy light lit arch way in Lydia and Parrish’s back garden. 

 

Malia, was still sat on the window sill in one of the guest bedrooms, talking to Parrish. She turned her head away from the Deputy for a second, and she saw him, as plain as day. Stiles Stilinski. He looked up at her, smiling,  he looked more alive than ever. Malia burst past Parrish and charged through the party, into the garden. She bolted down, freezing before she reached him. She didn’t even care if it was her imagination, because he looked real. She reached her hand out, and pressed it on his cheek.

 

“I’m real, Mal,” Stiles reassured her, she yelped at the sound of his voice. Tears filled her eyes as she smiled, she leant her forehead on his, and they pulled each other in for a kiss. She then drew him into a hug, he folded his arms around her shoulders, keeping her sheleted and close to his chest. When she drew back, he placed his hands on her cheeks, “I didn’t know you to live with that image in your head. I needed one more night.”   
  


“This is impossible,” she cried, “but amazing, all the same.” She sniffled, “how are you here?” 

 

“I wished,” Stiles laughed, clinging onto her hands. “I’ve been alone for a year, in limbo, I think. I died without saying goodbye and I need to fix that.” 

 

“Stiles!” Scott shouted, they both turned back to see him, stood at the back door. He charged over, leaping into Stiles’s arms, dragging his best friend into a hug, “you’re real.” Malia tapped both their backs, as she heard more footsteps. 

 

Lydia, Parrish, Kira, Liam, Theo, Mason, Corey and Hayden froze at the sight of him.  Stiles turned to Malia, “tell my Dad that I love him and I’m gonna take care of Mum.”   
  


“I will,” Malia nodded. 

 

Stiles turned to his pack, even Theo and whispered, “goodbye,” and he disappeared. Scott placed his arm around Malia, taking her into a hug. 

 

Malia learned to love Christmas again in the knowledge that one day, she’d be by Stiles’s side once more.


End file.
